


To Save the Innocents

by NightReaderEnigma



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arson, Australian Setting, Brienne wants to save the world, Bushfire, Canon-Typical Violence, Connection at First Sight, Drama, Environmental issues, F/M, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, Jaime adores Brienne right from the start, Journalist Jaime, No Incest, POV Jaime Lannister, Pod the Dog, Romance, Wildlife Rescuer Brienne, koala saving, sense of peril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22418302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightReaderEnigma/pseuds/NightReaderEnigma
Summary: “Here.”  She thrust her furry ward in his direction.  “Take him.  Just hold him, he is frail, so he won’t squirm.  I will warn you - they can be heavy though.”“I’m strong enough.”  Jaime assured her with confidence, enveloping the koala into his arms, only now noticing the angry burn scars running down his nose, his singed and missing fur.  “Poor thing.” He crooned.  “We will get you patched up.”The woman was already off, praising Podrick and unfurling a small towel which was tucked into her belt.  Tossing it over the tiny grey profile and lifting it with ease.  Jaime neared with curiosity, keen to watch her at work.  Admiration for her kindness and awe at her stamina flooding his system.It is so hot out here.  The conditions practically unliveable.  Yet here she is – helping these poor creatures.Already I can tell I have encountered someone remarkable.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 26
Kudos: 90





	To Save the Innocents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merrymaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymaya/gifts).



> Hello! Or for the purposes of this fic I should resort to a cliché and say G’Day! LOL  
> There are a couple of notes I just have to share with you all as an introduction to this story: 
> 
> For those of you who don’t already know I am Australian. I have mentioned it in my past fics as an explanation for my spelling. Here in this fic I purposefully use some Aussie terms and have included a mini glossary at the end. If you notice any I miss, please don’t hesitate to ask for clarification and I will add it to the list. 
> 
> I have a huge shout out and thank you to make. This story would not exist without merrymaya.  
> The muse of my message inbox filling my head with inspiring whispers about Jaime and Brienne saving Koalas. She was fantastic beyond belief acting not only as my prompter but as pre-reader and I cannot thank her enough for her time and suggestions. She made this fic so much better. 😊 
> 
> This is my first Modern AU. A genre which I usually do not dabble in – but the lure was too great when the adorable idea of Braime coming to the rescue of helpless wildlife was coupled with the gravity of the cause. 
> 
> Because at the soul of this story is awareness. That from late 2019 and into the beginning of 2020 devastating bushfires have been ripping across the nation. The loss is untold and the devastation far reaching. Not only humans have been affected, but animals in droves and these issues have touched the hearts of every Australian. 
> 
> Suffice to say, this tale carries a trigger warning – Fire.
> 
> I intend this as a one-shot but have to admit, I really enjoyed writing it. Will there be more? No promises but I would never rule it out. 
> 
> Hugs to all! <3

When he set out on the road, Jaime wasn’t sure the extent of damage he would find. 

The familiar knot in his stomach weighing heavily. A churning combination of dread, guilt and helplessness running rampant within his conscience. At times like this he wasn’t sure how to feel. Whether he should give gratitude for his own blessings and be thankful he was unaffected or if that was callous and lacking heart. 

Beyond the windscreen, the signs of ruination increased by the kilometre. The scent of smoke lingering thickly in the hazy atmosphere and forcing him to raise the window. He had been driving for hours and the rush of air had been keeping him alert - but now the aroma conjured too many memories… 

_Jaime had been raised in the bush, their heritage listed home upon Casterly Rock Estate the family’s pride and joy. In previous generations the Lannisters themselves had worked the land, building from the ground upwards. Now they boasted enough wealth that they employed half the township to keep the family business running for them, shares in mining ensuring their profits continued to turn even through the periods of drought. They were more fortunate than most._

_The threat of fire had been a part of Jaime’s upbringing for as long as he could remember. Monitoring the progress of blazes and being ready to evacuate at a moment’s notice. He could still hear his Mother’s voice – kind but stern, tinged with an edge he now recognised as fear. “One toy only Jaime.”_

_“But…” He had looked about in a state of utter distress, each inanimate plaything a friend to him. “….I can’t leave them!”_

_Clutching three to his chest, his bottom lip quivered. Then his Father had rounded the corner, shouting at him to man up and two of his beloved pals had slipped from his arms._

_It was a seasonal routine, their late-night escapes. Bundled into the back of the car to the accompaniment of sirens. His parents’ anxious whispers as they encountered gridlocks and road closures, hurriedly consulting maps to determine the best route to take. Jaime would try to calm his rapidly beating heart, remaining as still as possible so as not to disturb Cersei, his twin sister dozing off leaning against his shoulder. Eventually Jaime’s own head would start to droop, only to be startled awake in fright moments later by the screeching cry of speeding firetrucks. Passing them by in a blur of red and flashing lights. The sole vehicles rushing towards the ominous orange glow on the horizon._

_As he grew older, he began to ask questions. Hesitating with his hand on the car’s door handle._

_“What about the animals?” He glanced towards the distant fields, knowing where the sheep grazed in the dry pastures. “Dad?! They’ll die!”_

_“There is nothing to be done.” Tywin Lannister’s expression was hardened from years of this process. “Get in.”_

_Almost equally as terrifying as fleeing at all odd hours, was the return the following day. The gruelling wait until the authorities deemed the danger passed and then the journey that ensued. Peering through glass at a transformed world, resembling an exhibit from a museum rather than nearby suburbs and businesses. The places which he knew so well yesterday, decimated in equivalent proportions to a warzone. Eviscerated skeletons of shelter the only vestiges of homes and livelihoods._

_The fire itself was a sinister beast, a force of nature which you could mistake as having a sentient will. Consuming in an indiscriminate but also fathomless, random path. Upon the widespread properties, some houses would be spared. As though the amber maw changed its mind or the wind took it in a different direction. The hell absolute for many families, whilst others fared more favourably._

_Such had proved the way for them, breathing sighs of relief when they arrived to find their piece of history still standing. Thanking above for watching over their corner of the earth._

**_Until the year it changed…._ **

****

Shaking his head roughly Jaime turned on the radio, tuning the blaring white noise trying to pick up a station. This far out the most he could hope for would be one of those local ‘easy listening’ channels but anything was better than reliving the memories which buzzed around his subconscious. He glanced at his GPS, knowing his turn off should be approaching and noting how infrequent the mapped roads were becoming. His car the sole traveller on the long, deserted highway. People were flooding to the cities, the bush harbouring an enemy, the unpredictability of this particular firestorm setting everyone on edge. It leapt roads, climbed cliffsides, turned in the blink of an eye. He couldn’t help but wonder if one day they would name the blazes, referring to them as if they were alive, the way they did up North with cyclones.

A light blinked upon the digital screen signalling it was time to turn and Jaime pulled off the freeway. Concentrating on navigating for the next stretch, catching the fuzzy tune which intermittently spewed from his speaker. It was all a welcome distraction – until it wasn’t. His car rolling to a stop in front of a ‘Road Closure’ sign.

_Fuck. Now which way do I go?_

He picked up his phone to Google alternative routes to discover there wasn’t a signal. _Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m going to have to do this the old-fashioned way…_

Reaching again for the radio, he flicked it to the news. The broadcast offering 24/7 coverage of the fire crisis. Sporadically they listed the road closures – but it was interspersed amongst tales of fatalities and damage.

Jotting down the closures, he reworked his route to accommodate, reversing down the road and getting himself back on track. He was just about to switch stations again when a chilling sound made him halt in his tracks. His hand hovering just shy of the button.

Every ten minutes a warning siren would sound, the monotone voice on the end of the microphone listing the townships under threat. Urging the citizens to take heed and evacuate. The transmission structured in the same time-tested manner as it had been years ago, transporting him to those dark places in his mind that he avoided. Stepping into a nightmare over a decade old – that still felt like yesterday. 

Jaime shuddered as the day returned to him, the scars of the trauma still raw….

_He was a teenager, cocksure and courageous. Filled with all the bravado of youth as the neighbours met, discussing the threat of the latest firestorm. Petty business rivalries and border disputes placed aside in the face of the unfolding crisis. The men unanimously agreeing that they wanted to defend their territory. “We fight!”_

_They ignored the warnings, sending wives, daughters and younger sons away to safety but choosing not to evacuate themselves. Grabbing hoses and buckets, hacking away at nearby shrubs. Clearing an exclusion zone around their homesteads, silently praying for rain._

_The roar of the fire was deafening, a creature with a primal voice which could rival the grim reaper. A chilling disembodied herald of death. The thermal winds driving it ever closer, black billowing clouds smothering the air and his lungs. Deluges of sweat dripped from his body, as he coughed and wielded his hose like a lifeline. Dousing the earth, slicking the timber. Eyes trained to lock upon any flying embers which settled in his immediate vicinity._

_“It is lost!” His Father screamed to him and Jaime had never seen him so panicked, so wild. “We need to get out while we still have a chance! If it reaches the car, the fuel tank will explode!”_

_He dropped the hose and made a dash for it, whilst the growling demon’s claws latched onto their home, sinking in talons of flame and eradicating decades of heritage in mere moments. It bore down upon their backs, the heat blistering. The instinct to survive pumping his legs harder, faster towards their vehicle parked in the drive._

_Flooring the engine, the Lannisters made it down the dirt road, the images of their burning house branded into his recollection and he thought that was the most horrendous sight he had ever endured until they spotted the neighbours car, empty and stationary in its place outside the gate._

_“The Starks are still up there!”_

_His Father hit the brakes and Jaime barrelled out. Adrenaline coursing through him with a blessed second wind as he sprinted past the fenceline, his Father close on his heels._

_“Rickard! Brandon!”_

_He wheezed as his lungs copped a dose of asphyxiating smoke and he doubled over as faint screams carried towards him over the chaos. He raised his eyes to scan the perimeter of Winterfell House, blinking against the glare to make out two shadowed figures. He leapt forward but was seized roughly by the arm._

_“Jaime!” His Father turned him around, shaking him by the shoulders. “They are surrounded! You can’t help them! You will only kill yourself.”_

_“Dad, no- NO!” Tears streamed down his face, the embarrassment of crying a knife slicing through his ego. He wanted to personify the tough man, live up to his Father’s stoic example. But their flow came unbidden as he tried to pull away from the iron grasp. Resenting the nails which dug into his bicep. His childhood acquaintance yelling for help, so near and yet so far. Separated from them by a wall of fire. “They are alive! They’re still alive!”_

_“Not for much longer.” Smoke swam in Tywin’s own pools of green, stinging the whites to red and lending them a watery quality. Jaime wished he could deceive himself into reading their sheen as emotion, that just for once the reticent patriarch would openly wear his humanity as they abandoned their neighbours to die. “Rickard and I discussed this possibility. We have to save ourselves.”_

_Since that day, the smell of anything roasting made him retch. The heat of flames near his skin abhorrent. He knew it was impossible that he could discern the individual aroma of searing flesh, but somewhere in his mind just knowing he inhaled the ash of their funeral pyre disturbed him more than words could say. The counsellor he saw afterwards diagnosed it as trauma. Jaime summarised it as sheer horror._

_In the years that followed he would try to volunteer for the Rural Fire Service. Wanting to atone for his lack of intervention, to save the innocents and prevent loss, instead of powerlessly watching the destruction. But his application had been understandably vetoed. The long-term psychological effects of what he witnessed listed in the history on his file. Being honest with himself in hindsight, Jaime openly admitted it was a fool’s errand. Well-intentioned but utterly ludicrous. After the deaths of Rickard and Brandon, he just didn’t have the stomach for heroics._

Pulling into a gas station, Jaime refuelled his car. Steeling his nerves for what lay ahead. When he put his hand up to cover the latest bushfire crisis, he feared it may be hitting too close to home. But his editor at the paper had jumped at the chance for an insider angle, encouraging Jaime to imbue the article with a sympathetic voice. To appeal to the humanity in those who resided in cities and skyscrapers, so far removed that they could not comprehend such devastation. 

“Do we know what ignited it?” He enquired of the counterstaff as he paid, grabbing lunch even though he had lost his appetite. The local service station would have been a hotspot for refuelling firetrucks during the peak of the battle. 

“Lightning strike.” The elderly man replied. “We haven’t seen one like this since Black Saturday but at least Mother Nature acted alone this time.” He sighed. "We are always at her mercy – first with the drought and now this.” Shaking his head sadly, he handed Jaime his pie and can of soft drink. “Poor buggers didn’t stand a chance. Half the local cattle were dying of thirst once the dams ran dry and now they had nowhere to run. Pray for rain.”

“We all are.” Jaime agreed, thanking him. 

Re-entering the vehicle, he placed the food upon the dash, tossing his notebook across the passenger seat and running his hands over his face. _Thank God it wasn’t arson._

After so many devastating blazes in recent memory, Jaime still could not begin to understand why firebugs still existed. How the youths could be so careless or think it fun. That entire towns were destroyed, lives both human and animal lost along with millions of dollars’ worth of damage - just so they could get their kick with a lighter. He took a swig from his coke can, opening the packet containing his pie, still ruminating over the inconceivable. _But then – look at my sister…._

_He hadn’t spoken to Cersei in years. Where once they had been the closest of twins now he wanted nothing to do with her and possessed zero intention of ever reforging their connection. Their relationship had dissolved one particularly boring afternoon in the years that followed the loss of their home. Tywin had devoted his time to rebuilding what was, donating and investing a great deal of the family’s funds into restoring their town. Jaime helped where he could but found it more interesting to gather stories from the locals. Documenting their own tales and writing pieces on the progress of the reconstruction. He distributed them for fun, hoping to lift spirits and unite strangers under the common banners of loss and community. It was one of these scribblings that had captured the attention of a small newspaper and the suggestion was made that he pursue a career in journalism._

_Cersei however had no ambitions and even less empathy. She lamented her imprisonment in the ‘dilapidated hell hole’ and occupied her time by flirting shamelessly with every boy she came across. Robert Baratheon in particular. He had recently moved to the rural locale with his older brother Stannis, a shrewd real estate magnate keen to take advantage of the plummeting property values. Cashing in on people’s misfortune by buying out the ravaged homesteads and businesses listed on the market as part of liquidation._

_Upon first arrival – Robert seemed quite the catch. Immediately drawing the calculating eye of Cersei. The black-haired teen was meaty, muscle bound and from a very wealthy family. But he was a stranger to small-town life, unused to how quickly gossip bred in a close-knit population and before too long he had forged a reputation for himself with the ladies – one that was not entirely wholesome. Word soon spread of an incident with the Starks, revolving around their only daughter Lyanna. The bereaved and broken family were deep into negotiations with Stannis, their precious acreage up for sale to amass the funds for interstate relocation. Too broken to pick up and start again._

_The particular details of the circumstances were kept suspiciously hushed but suffice to say, the Starks uprooted and left suddenly without fanfare. The deeds to their lands sold to Tywin Lannister instead._

_From that day forward, Robert was tarnished. The conservative folks keeping their daughters far from his roving hands. Bored and without pastime, he turned to underage drinking and in his drunken stupor chose the Kettleblacks for company. Three dole-bludging brothers from the fringes of town who swore, did the odd half-arsed job and thought the most juvenile of pranks were funny._

_This would have been considered off-putting for any level-headed youth – but not Cersei. Where others saw ‘strife’ she saw ‘opportunity.’ Keen to endear herself to the wealthy heir, she joined their rag-tag group, threatening Jaime with every obscenity known to man if he betrayed her trust and alerted their Father._

_So it was, that Jaime happened upon them - the scorching summer sun tracking its way across the clear mid-afternoon sky. Robbo was guffawing loudly, clapping along with the Kettleblack brothers as they egged Cersei on in a dare. This was not an unusual occurrence. Idle hands made for juvenile delinquency and their hijinks increased in idiocy by the day. But what Jaime had not been prepared for was the sight of Cersei with a lighter, blowing upon a gathered bundle of dried twigs and grass, beneath a run-down timber woolshed._

_“What the FUCK are you doing?!” Jaime had bellowed, which only served to make the lackwits hoot with laughter. “There is a fire ban Cersei! Are you out of your wits?!”_

_“It’s only an old woolshed.” She tossed her blonde hair flippantly behind her shoulder. “If I help its decay along, I’m doing it a favour.”_

_“Hey Lannister!” Robert mocked. “Cry baby Jaime who likes to write his bedtime stories - don’t you have somewhere else to be? A counsellor perhaps? Weeping by a gravesite? If I hadn’t checked up her skirt myself, I’d swear Cersei got the balls and you got the pussy. Now fuck off!”_

_“Yeah, beat it pretty-boy.” Osmund had fewer braincells than an amoeba. “And don’t even think of running off to Daddy about this or you’ll be sorry.”_

_“People lost their lives.” Jaime was aghast at their blatant lack of compassion. “Others watched everything they had disappear to ash.”_

_“They were dumb enough to build out in Woop Woop.” Robert knocked against his skull with a finger for emphasis, though Jaime was positive he heard only a hollow sound. “What did they think would happen? Duh!”_

_The situation only deteriorated further from there. Jaime had stood his ground and ended up in fisticuffs with all three boys. He landed a good number of blows but ended up with a black eye and a split lip. As it happened - whilst Cersei was distracted by the fight, the flames did take. The woolshed went up with a whoosh and they all had to scatter before an ember hit a barbeque propane tank which the morons had successfully overlooked._

_Cersei was charged with arson and had to appear in juvenile court. Their Father although irate employed the best lawyer to argue her defence and she got off lightly with a sentence of only community service. However, her life did change irreversibly from that point, when throughout the proceedings it became evident she was knocked-up to Robert. The pair were hastily married by the insistence of both families and the disgraced couple moved to live with Baratheon relatives by the coast. Jaime didn’t miss her._

Dusting the flaked pastry off his lap, he turned the ignition on and began the last leg of his journey. 

^^^^^^^^^^

Jaime steered his four-wheel drive onto a dirt road into what used to be the bush, veering down the newly formed dusty and blackened path. His way cleared by dozens of wheels, as opposed to a pre-existing navigable shortcut. Cinders littered the ground, the sporadic branches which lay directly ahead easily crunched by his tyres. The dehydrated limbs pre-weakened, disintegrating on impact in this post-apocalyptic wasteland. The fallout more what he would imagine as the work of an atom bomb rather than an environmental disaster. 

_I should have brought a photographer._

But he had wanted to come alone. Absorb the gravity of the catastrophe without the incessant chatter of someone who would see it as ‘artful’ or the ‘shot of a lifetime.’ 

He cringed as he passed the crispy carcass of a deceased wallaby. The blanched bones of its ribcage jutting out from its collapsed form. The futility of its final hopping breaths inspiring naught but sympathy. _May I never grow desensitised to the plight of the unwitting victims._

Finally, the charred trees thinned enough for him to comfortably park. The isolation and eerie quiet the first thing which struck him as he stepped directly into the aftermath. The absence of scurrying in the underbrush, the boughs devoid of birdsong. 

The arid wilderness has served as nature’s kindling, providing the fuel for the combustion. Here furnace, cemetery and crematorium all merged into a singular entity. Disfiguring the landscape as far as the eye could see. The inferno devouring organic and synthetic compounds alike, with little care whether its sustenance was sculpted by creationism or man. Blackened stumps and charcoal the corpses of untamed beauty. A graveyard of gum, eucalypt and wattle. The bush for which the nation was famed – no more than Gaia’s tinder box. 

It was enough to make a grown man weep, contemplating the centuries of vegetation which had been destroyed. The cataclysm far further reaching than was immediately apparent. The untold toll on the Earth’s wellbeing would have ramifications for generations to come. 

_It is bigger than all of us. Where do we begin to salvage?_

His reverie was interrupted by a determined low bark. The floppy ears and pointed nose of a brown eyed dog, careening into his line of vision. It wagged its stumpy tail, emitting another deep aroo. Coming to a sliding stop just beyond arm’s reach, clearly surprised by the presence of a human. 

“Are you alright boy?” Jaime crouched, holding out his hand. His first instinct had been concern for its wellbeing, worried that the poor Spaniel had been displaced from his family in the evacuations. But he looked far too healthy and happy, sniffing the air keenly and continuing his series of alert noises. 

“Podrick!” The contralto female voice called, followed by a sharp whistle. In response the dog only upped the volume of his barking. “Leave off. We will have to come back for it.” A blonde head appeared between the trees, the commentary out of breath and puffing slightly in the humidity. “My arms are already full.” 

When she filled his vision Jaime could only gape. Before him stood a contender for the tallest woman he had ever seen, her height and might of girth both putting the few remaining tree trunks to shame. Flaxen hair stuck to the perspiration on her forehead, the lank locks loosely framing a pair of astonishing eyes. 

The rest of her was admittedly not as comely, freckles abounding upon flesh kissed by the harsh sun a tad too often. A crooked nose and lips pulled into a frustrated scowl. Her lengthy limbs were muscular, strong thighs evident through her loose-fitting trousers and upper arms bulging against the sleeves of her T-Shirt. Around her waist she wore a utility belt, sporting a wide variety of grappling hooks, rigging and most intriguingly of all - a baby bottle full of water. 

A coil of metallic cord was thrown over her shoulder and Jaime presumed from the sheer sturdiness of the material it must be heavy. Though the most captivating thing of all was what she balanced upon her hip, cradled in an arm of pure sinew. A soft blanket was wrapped around a koala, the battered and weary creature nestled snugly against her chest. 

“Oh.” She exhaled, suddenly realising the reason her dog had become excitable. 

“Hello.” Jaime smiled warmly. “Apologies for distracting him. I honestly thought I was the only one out here.”

“Me too.” She responded coolly, shifting the koala slightly to better bear its weight. “Pod – come!” The brown and white Springer ran the distance back to his mistress, sitting almost on her boot and looking very pleased with himself. “If you’ll excuse us, we need to get going.” She turned purposefully, striding away. 

“Wait!” Jaime bounded after her with an enthusiasm which put the canine to shame. His feet almost tripping over the uneven ground. Catching up to walk side by side with her. “I’m here writing a piece on the fires. An eye-witness account of the impact it has on both human and animal life. The obliteration of natural habitats.” He knew he was not without charm as he gave her a full helping of green-eyed imploring. “I would welcome your take on it all. Especially the work you are doing here…” 

Pod the dog interrupted by beginning his insistent barking once more, stealing his owner’s attention as she snapped around to focus on his location. She huffed, spotting a small bundle on the ground, her austere expression softening. “I will talk if you give me a helping hand.”

“Absolutely.” He agreed without a second’s pause. 

“Here.” She thrust her furry ward in his direction. “Take him. Just hold him, he is frail, so he won’t squirm. I will warn you - they can be heavy though.” 

“I’m strong enough.” Jaime assured her with confidence, enveloping the koala into his arms, only now noticing the angry burn scars running down his nose, his singed and missing fur. “Poor thing.” He crooned. “We will get you patched up.” 

The woman was already off, praising Podrick and unfurling a small towel which was tucked into her belt. Tossing it over the tiny grey profile and lifting it with ease. Jaime neared with curiosity, keen to watch her at work. Admiration for her kindness and awe at her stamina flooding his system. 

_It is so hot out here. The conditions practically unliveable. Yet here she is – helping these poor creatures. Already I can tell I have encountered someone remarkable._

A warm fuzzy feeling swelled in his chest as he watched her unclip the bottle from its holster, hunching over and parting the towel enough to reveal a baby koala safely ensconced in the crook of her arm. The little orphan lapping weakly at the offered water. 

“I’m Jaime.” He said softly. “Jaime Lannister.” 

“Brienne Tarth.” She replied, not lifting her gaze from her charge. “And you’ve met Podrick.”

“That I have.” He extended his free arm just enough to pet the top of the dog’s head, impressed that he was trained so thoroughly. 

“Thank you for agreeing to help.” Slipping the bottle back into place she straightened. “I didn’t have enough arms to save them both. Chances are this one would have passed by the time I made my way back.” 

“Then fate was on our side.” He grinned, almost disconcerted by how much he liked this woman – Brienne – from the onset. “Both for me and the joey.” 

“We will have to walk them back to my truck…” 

“That’s fine – I’m happy to.” 

They began their wander with Brienne leading the way. The surrounds not seeming quite so bleak now that he had a purpose. An honourable mission. 

“Ask your first.”

“Pardon?” He blinked, forgetting the original reason why he was here.

“You said you wanted to interview me. Ask your first question. Unless you need to take notes.”

“No, I can remember. If I want an exact quote we can always revisit the subjects when we reach the vehicle.” He squinted, phrasing his opening enquiry. “Did you train Podrick yourself?”

“Yes.” There was a hint of pride within her. Exuding equal happiness to how a mother would detail the achievements of her child. “He has been trained to track koalas in trees and on the ground. He works on the scent of their fur. But when the wind blows too fiercely or the aroma is faint he can trace their immediate vicinity from scat.” 

“Very accomplished – both Pod and his handler.” A delightful blush stained her cheeks, obvious even through the redness which inherently came with the heat. “Have you always worked with animals?” 

“I have been a wildlife carer for years. Taking in orphans and hand rearing them until they can be rehabilitated and released into the wild. Though after these fires have swept through countless hectares of their ecosystems and habitat have been rendered inhospitable. It will negatively affect the animal population as a whole.”

“Are there any current estimates of how much fauna has been lost?” 

“It is impossible to say conclusively but the experts approximate that one billion animals have died with some endangered species driven closer to extinction – though even that is theoretical. There is the high chance extinction has already happened but until the blazes are all extinguished and the clean-up has begun, it is hard to determine.” She looked at the baby in her arms, emotion palpable as she talked about her cause. “But this one will not become a statistic. Not if I have anything to do with it.” 

“It seems very close to your heart. May I ask what touches you so? The passion which drives you?” 

She swallowed. “Humans are an interesting breed. A species of creators and destroyers. We industrialise and urbanise, consume natural resources as though they are limitless, level acres with barely a concern for the detriment it is having on the wildlife. Nature disappears before our eyes, the calamities thrust upon the animals by our climate alone is enough to make their survival difficult. Fires are begun by lightning strikes when water becomes scarce and we are deprived of rain. The last thing these poor creatures need is further peril caused by us. Arson, global warming, depletion of natural food sources.” 

Brienne’s resolve was iron, her will unbreakable. Conviction imbued in every syllable. “People can be cruel. People can be heartless. Callous beings who judge by appearance, measure your worth by your attractiveness or desirability. Animals have no such prejudice. They care not whether you are fair of face or slight of frame. All they know by instinct is that you are trying to help and they give their trust accordingly. They harm none and gauge by spirit rather than sight. The ultimate in innocence….” 

She locked eyes with him and time suspended. The glint within them so transcendental no camera could have done it justice. A portrait of courage and tenacity as she imparted her creed.

“….Should we not always strive to protect the innocent?”

Her grit struck him like a bolt of lightning, her voice the thunderclap which breaks a drought. It flashed behind his eyelids – dazzling, blinding illumination. Shaking his foundations as he heard his own motto tumble from her lips.

“We should.” Jaime agreed. The sheer immensity of this woman and all she stood for leaving him dumbfounded. He could feel the hurt through her tone, hear the story behind her guise. The ostracised social outcast, shunned for her unconventional looks and manner. But with a heart of gold, a vision profound. Possessing a wisdom and awareness beyond her years. It called to him like magnetism, awakening him from hibernation. 

He watched her fall silent, working her jaw in stress as they approached a four-door ute. His eyebrows raising in pleasant surprise when two koalas were already within - safe and sound. Brienne opened the side door, her brow furrowed, deep in thought as she secured the baby within a waiting carrier. 

“Please don’t print that.” Withdrawing from the interior, she frowned sullenly, folding her arms across her chest. “The last part. I said too much and if my Father reads it or anyone I know - I would be….”

“Mortified? Scared they’d read between the lines and it would spawn mockery?” He tilted his head knowingly. “Believe it or not I have encountered similar scorn in my time. Always issued by people who have never gone through trauma or with a lack of comprehension for the seriousness of the topic.” Brienne reached for the adult koala and he entrusted it back into her tender care. “Don’t worry. I won’t print it – even though I think you made a fantastic point. Or I would ask if I could paraphrase but leave the source anonymous. The perspective needs to be heard.”

“I suppose.” She mumbled, suddenly shy. Retreating into a further hush as she went about her work. All while Jaime stood there, uselessly shoving his hands in his pockets and trying not to stare at the appealing shape of her backside as she stretched over the back seats, half crawling in whilst her incredibly long legs remained planted on the ground. 

A few more minutes passed before she emerged again, avoiding looking him directly in the face and yanking on the door of the passenger side so Podrick could jump in. With practised hands she began the process of fastening the dog’s harness in place. 

Once again Jaime could not resist letting his eyes linger on a patch of peeking flesh. The hem of her shirt front riding up to reveal the taut pale skin of her waist. 

_I don’t know what blind fools she surrounds herself with, I think she is magnificent._

Suddenly Brienne squirmed self-consciously, blue marbles meeting his in the reflection as she spied his appreciative appraisal of her physique in the rear-view mirror. Jaime quickly averted his gaze but it was too late, he had been caught - unabashedly checking her out. _But is it really so bad she noticed?_

The tower of a woman worried at her lip, hands fidgeting nervously with the loops of her belt as she turned towards him. 

“I have to get them to the vet.” She said, attempting to sound dismissive. Her body language conveying unease, unaccustomed to this kind of regard. But still he ventured to detect a tiny spark – enough to lead him to believe that his attentions were not unwelcome. “Did you have any more questions?”

“Yes.” Jaime nodded, curling his tongue around the word flirtatiously. “Do you happen to have plans for dinner?” 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“This is starting to feel like a continuation of the interview.” Brienne straightened her water glass upon the coaster, peering at him demurely through blonde lashes, chin tucked towards her chest. Jaime had noticed the way she avoided raising her head to directly meet him in the eye. As though she thought the sight of her face may put him off his dinner.

_It is disgraceful that ill-treatment goes unchecked, making people develop hang-ups and tainting their view of themselves. Look at her - a woman so full of vitality and life should not feel ashamed because some shallow imbeciles did not know how to see the wonder behind irregularity._

He finished chewing his mouthful, swallowing before hitting her with a rebuttal. “Occupational hazard and how else do you suggest I get to know you?”

She shrugged. “Watching me work today was a good start. I fear I can be quite a dull conversationalist. I am more a hands-on kind of person.”

Jaime chortled, enjoying the guileless delivery of a sentence which could be interpreted far differently with a dirty mind. Primarily his.

However, he immediately regretted his laughter when her posture fell, shoulders slumping as she interpreted his reaction as mockery. “Perhaps you would prefer more articulate dinner company?”

“Not at all.” He reassured. “I was not laughing at you – I was being immature. An error on my part as now I can see it was most discourteous. Please overlook my lack of manners.” He shot her his most winning smile. “Will I be forgiven if I promise you two desserts?”

“That is quite presumptuous – concluding I will stay not just for one dessert but two? Considering we have yet to get through our main course.”

“You read it as presumption. I read it as optimism. Besides I am immensely enjoying our conversation.” It was true. Throughout the entrée he had been delighted to discover a strange rhythm to their communication. A natural banter where he served and she volleyed – until they had quite the rally going.

Brienne sighed, disbelieving his assertion. Withdrawing into an awkward quietness. He could tell she was out of her element, the fancy restaurant perhaps not the most suitable choice and he bemoaned the unease she exuded in the formal setting as opposed to the tower of determination he witnessed in the bush.

“Ask me something.” He prodded amiably. “I am an open book.”

She glanced around the opulent restaurant, readjusting the strap on her blue jumpsuit. It had taken him quite a stint of convincing to even get her through the doors when she was struck with the debilitating fear she was underdressed. “This place is extravagant. I would estimate quite pricey upon a newspaper journalist’s salary…” Large teeth dug into her full bottom lip, tugging at the plump unadorned pink.

_She is so unassuming she foregoes lipstick but I think her decision correct. Her natural shade is the most becoming of all._

“My family comes from money.” Jaime offered, pre-empting what she was too polite to say. “I have a proclivity towards the finer things in life.”

A crease appeared between her pale eyebrows, for once levelling him with an even stare. “Does your conscience not weigh heavy? Splashing around funds on lavish dining after the destruction you saw today?”

“I do my part.” He pouted, trying not to feel a niggle of guilt. “I raise awareness and my family makes donations…”

“But you are in a position of influence on all fronts – from your articles in the paper to rubbing shoulders with the wealthy. You have the opportunity to be the voice of change. To broaden the narrow minds of our richest and most powerful and bring their focus onto the issues which plague our environment and worsen every year…”

He marvelled at the return of her fervour, the way she shed her insecurities when she spoke from her soul. Her eyes brightening in the filtered light, scintillating with vehemence and avidity. The only iris’ he had ever beheld which truly encapsulated the unique blue shade of their southern sky. 

“Brienne are you trying to get me to change the world?”

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled her apologies. “I just see within you so much capacity for great deeds. You have everything a man could possibly require in order to make a difference at your disposal. Look at you!” Brienne held out a large freckled hand in gesture. “You’re wealthy, eloquent, handsome, literary…”

“Hold it right there.” Jaime licked his lip and smirked. “Did you just call me handsome?”

There it was again – her crimson pigment. The blush spreading across her face and down her neck like a king tide. “I-“ She stammered and his grin broadened. “I think perhaps you should go back to asking me questions.” Brienne pushed her meal about her plate with her fork. “It is safer that way.”

“Alright.” Jaime waggled his eyebrows mischievously. “Have you ever committed a felony?”

“No! Gods no.” She practically snorted and he thought it was one of the most endearingly uninhibited noises he had ever heard. “My Father would kill me. I was raised with morals – to know the difference between right and wrong and I act accordingly.”

“Nothing at all?” He exaggerated his disappointment. “Not even a parking ticket?” He leant upon the table, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “This is off the record of course.”

“It doesn’t change my answer.” Brienne shook her head, folding her arms across her chest stubbornly. “The nearest I ever came to a brush with the law was at a climate change protest. But the second the crowd got rowdy I was sure to depart. Negative publicity bodes badly for the cause and I refuse to be a part of it.” She eyed him curiously. “What about you?”

“Yes.” Jaime didn’t flinch. “I have a record. I have been arrested and had charges pressed – are you shocked?” He was revelling in baiting her. “What do you make of that? Not looking so much like the upstanding citizen and perfect spokesman now am I?”

“That depends.” He could see the cogs turning in her mind. “I will need more information to judge the situation accordingly. I will not form an opinion on half-truths and assumptions.”

He slanted in his seat, compelled by an almost otherworldly force to confide in this woman. “My own Father doesn’t like me to speak about it. In fact – I have never spoken about it with anyone besides my lawyer to this day.”

“Really?” She blinked. “Not even your family?”

“No. Lannisters tend to operate on a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ basis.”

“Well I would never push you to discuss a topic you don’t feel comfortable disclosing.”

For some reason that just made him want to tell her all the more.

“It was assault.” He held her gaze, maintaining eye contact as if daring her to look away. Hypnotised into divulging his soul by her benevolent aura.

“I was following a story about an arsonist – believe it or not – who had been setting fire to random houses in the night. People had suffered third degree burns and there was one fatality. The police were on his trail and I was doing some investigative journalism of my own, as the crime is one that particularly boils my blood. Then call it fortuitous or call it fate - one night, I correctly tracked his movements and caught him loitering in an alleyway between a fuel station and a family home. The whole lane was littered with dry leaves and here he was, armed with his own tank of gasoline and a barbeque lighter. Laughing maniacally about being reborn from the flames if he ‘burned them all.’”

Jaime sighed. “I – well as my legal representation made me say – acted ‘impulsively, irrationally and most out of character.’ Though in truth I regret nothing. I tackled him and let’s just say, put in a valiant effort to render him unconscious. All whilst he cackled and kept repeating ‘burn them all, burn them all.’ Unfortunately for me – I wasn’t the only who had successfully predicted his next target and the police swooped in, arresting us both.”

He took a swig of wine, wetting his parched mouth as he waited for her condemnation.

Brienne just drummed her fingers against her forearm, weighing the gravity of his confession. “Was it the honourable thing to do? No. Was it reckless? Yes.” She paused, letting him sweat it out. “But there are some who might consider you a hero.”

“Well – not the court.” Jaime shook his head. “Turns out he was a madman. Plead insanity and received institutionalisation in lieu on jail time. Which apparently just makes my actions more grievous.”

“How did you escape conviction then?”

“My medical record. I myself had diagnosed PTSD. Fire was a trigger and so I was not accountable for my rash reaction either.”

“You mentioned having trauma in your past. I would enquire further but I do not wish to pry or poke old wounds.” Her intelligible face spoke to her sincerity, a tenderness rarer and more precious than a discovery at Argyle or Lightning Ridge. _I will tell her one day…._ He surprised himself with how quickly he was jumping ahead, easily incorporating her into his vision of the future. _She just fits._

She smoothed the linen tablecloth, busying herself with the menial task to deflect her agitation. “Please don’t misinterpret my reserve as a lack of caring – it sounds like you’ve led quite the life.”

“Too exciting.” Even the retelling exhausted him, yet it also came with a liberating sense of relief. A piece of baggage lifted from his psyche, his load a little lighter.

_All thanks to this extraordinary woman._

Jaime stretched across the table, brushing his fingertips over the back of her knuckles, the gentlest of touches to demonstrate the kindred meeting of their likeminded souls. His spirits soared when she did not pull away.

“I have experienced too much of the wild world. The most appealing thing I can think of for my future would be finding a nice, tranquil little niche for myself and settling down. Savouring the simple things others take for granted – plentiful water, a peaceful home, love…family.” Now his age was showing, his jaded qualities when compared to the younger idealist who sat before him.

 _Dammit Jaime, you are probably coming on too strong._ Tearing away from the entrancing view of their connected hands, he chanced a peek at her reaction.

Brienne sat serenely, listening intently to his ramblings. The goodness practically seeping from her pores to fill every corner of the room. The consolation and warmth she exuded overshadowing every other showy, classically pretty female in the room.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, making him believe something that he said had pleased her. She bent towards him, coming so close he could almost count the freckles which spattered across her nose. Adorable in their unrefined placement, the way she wore then openly when other ladies would attempt to mask them behind cosmetics.

“I have not yet told you that I grew up on an island off the coast.” Brienne beamed. “Have you ever been to the Barrier Reef?”

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary of Australiana terms:
> 
> Argyle & Lightning Ridge – mines famous for their Pink Diamonds and Opals respectively  
> Buggers – Let’s not put the actual meaning lol. We tend to throw this term around a lot. Let’s just say it adds emphasis and leave it at that.  
> Black Saturday – Devastating fires in 2009 which cost many lives. Started by arson, lightning strike & powerlines.  
> Cyclone – Equivalent to Hurricane  
> Dole-Bludging – the action of living on unemployment benefit by deliberately avoiding work  
> Gum, Eucalypt and Wattle – native trees  
> Joey – A baby marsupial. Term used for both koalas and kangaroos.  
> Pray for Rain – A common phrase used during the drought  
> Robbo – Common Australia nickname for Robert  
> Ute – A utility vehicle, similar to a pick-up truck.  
> Woolshed – a large shed for shearing sheep


End file.
